


wake me in the moonlight

by seungsiks (galacticnik)



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: 95z friendship, Alternate Universe - Demons, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Non-Linear Narrative, Sejun is there for a scene, Subin and Seungwoo are brothers, side Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticnik/pseuds/seungsiks
Summary: Chan might've joined a demon hunters' organization mostly by accident, but stays on for reasons of his own that have nothing (or everything) to do with the cute guy assigned to train him.Still, he thinks, this should not be his problem.Until it is.
Relationships: Heo Chan/Jung Subin
Comments: 46
Kudos: 79
Collections: Lucky 7 Victon





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> **for prompt #86:** Chan didn’t know that when he took down the “for a good time call” number on the bathroom stall that he was going to sign himself up for demon hunting. He also didn’t know that the guy assigned to train him was going to be so damn cute.
> 
> hello!!! to my prompter - sorry if this is not what you expected; it was meant to be a lot more crack-ish, but then plot happened. i hope there are parts of it you find some entertainment in regardless.
> 
> thank you so much to the mods who have been nothing but gracious and patient throughout this whole process ♡ i am sorry for being such a flop, but i appreciate all your hard work!! 

Everything goes to shit when the demon attacks. 

Chan has less than a moment’s warning before it charges straight at him with a guttural howl. Like all low-level demons, it is a mishmash of parts twisted and assembled into a singular grotesque creature—a ram’s head with huge, curling horns and the thick, sinewy body of a bull. Its teeth are sharpened to points, snapping at air as it advances, and its eyes are a dark and unfathomable abyss. 

He rolls out of the way, barely avoiding getting impaled on the horns. Heart lurching, he reaches for the twin blades strapped to his legs. They’re blessed silver—the only metal effective against demons—but that matters little when he’s too clumsy, too unpracticed, too _scared_ to do much but brandish them in front of him weakly.

The smell of sulfur and brimstone is heavy in the air, woven with the putrid stench of rotting flesh. From his vantage point, he can see flies buzzing around the demon’s head; the current state of the creature’s decay is exacerbated by the infernal power animating it from within. Chan chokes on the revolting miasma and stumbles backwards. 

The demon takes advantage of his momentary discomfort to gear up for another attack. Muscles coiling, it huffs and paws at the ground before springing forward with uncanny speed. 

But Subin is faster. He appears out of nowhere, kicking up dirt. Roaring at the sight of him, the demon veers off its trajectory. His knives fly out of his hands; the first wedges deep into its muzzle, the other bouncing harmlessly off its horns. 

Not wasting a second, Subin dives to the ground for the knife and only narrowly avoids being crushed under the rampaging demon’s hooves. “Damn,” he mutters, without any heat. “Stay still.” 

The demon does not comply. 

Chan’s not sure what he’s supposed to do—what he _can_ do—but he’ll be damned if he just stands here and watches Subin try to take down that thing alone. “HEY,” he yells, waving his arms above his head in an attempt to draw its attention. “HEY UGLY, OVER HERE!”

The demon turns, snorts, and a stream of green fire escapes its nose. Subin uses the moment to climb to his feet, grim determination in his eyes. But the demon pays no attention to him—for better or for worse, Chan’s successful in drawing its ire. Maybe a little _too_ successful; it launches at him and Chan curses into the night as he turns tail and runs. “What the fuck,” he pants, “you’re not actually supposed to come here—”

Subin pounces on it before it can run Chan down. He grabs it by the horns and yanks its back with all his might, giving Chan just enough time to dive behind a dumpster. Subin’s knife is in his hands a moment later, and he stabs it into the base of the demon’s skull. The sickening _crack_ of bone reverberates throughout the night as he drives the blade in deeper, deeper, _deeper_ until the demon slows and gradually falls with a low, pitiful moan. 

Chan refuses to emerge from behind the dumpster until Subin gives the all clear. “It’s dead, hyung,” he calls out. “Look, I stuck my knife up its nose.” 

“That’s disgusting, you know?” His legs are shaky, barely able to hold his weight as he approaches Subin and the remains of the demon’s corpse. 

Aside from a few dirt stains on his clothes, Subin looks none worse for wear. In fact, he’s grinning as he leans over the demon’s carcass, painstakingly re-carving the broken seal on its forehead with his other knife. Once he finishes, the demon’s corpse dissipates into shadow and smoke. He steps back with a small sound of satisfaction and throws Chan a look of triumph. 

Chan makes no attempt to return it; he slowly sinks to the ground. “Shit,” he says. It’s not his first brush with a demon, but this never gets any easier, especially as the adrenaline starts to fade and he’s faced with the reality that one misstep earlier and he could have died. “ _Shit_ ,” he repeats. 

“You did a good job,” Subin says placatingly, picking his blade off the ground and coming over to put a comforting hand on Chan’s shoulder.

“I didn’t do anything,” Chan replies bluntly. Panicked, sure. Yelled a couple of stupid things, yeah. What if Subin had been a little slower? What if the demon hadn’t taken the bait? What if, what if, _what if_ —the implications are horrifying. 

“You distracted it. That isn’t nothing.” 

“It’s close enough.”

Sighing, Subin returns his blades to their holsters and takes a seat beside Chan. “No one expects you to be the ultimate hunter, hyung,” he says gently. “You’re still a novice—you’re learning, and you handled yourself pretty well. I mean,” his smile turns slightly sour. “You’re alive, right?” 

“Your standards are way too low.” But yeah, he’s alive. Chan supposes that counts for something. Exhaling, he sits back on his hands and looks up at the bright Seoul sky. God knows he can’t see any stars, but at times he pretends. “Hey, is it just me, or is this the fifth demon we’ve run into in this neighborhood in the past two weeks?”

He’s not actively keeping track, but considering he lives just a couple of blocks away, the frequency with which Chan’s been forced to fight close to home turf is more than a little troubling. 

“You noticed?” Subin casts a sidelong glance at Chan.

“When I’m not fearing for my life, I can be pretty observant.” 

“It’s… definitely unusual,” he admits readily. “We shouldn’t be seeing such a large concentration of demons in one area. Unless…” Trailing off, Subin worries his lower lip between his teeth. “Something’s drawing them here.” 

Well, _fuck_. “Something like…?”

“I don’t know.” But Subin’s eyes are sharp and calculating. He _knows_ , but doesn’t want to tell Chan. Sometimes it frustrates him, but he knows Subin wouldn’t hide things from him unless they were important. He’s the same way—there are some truths that are kinder to keep from the people you care about. 

“I’ll talk to Seungwoo hyung about it.” Brushing the dirt off his pants, Subin climbs to his feet and holds a hand to help Chan out. He stares at it; it’s calloused, covered in ancient scars. It doesn’t look like the hand of a university student, but he supposes that neither does Subin. Too much death colors his complexion, too much blood and violence. 

There’s something innocent about his smile nonetheless, something naive and sweet about the way he tilts his head, waiting patiently for Chan to take his hand. He grasps it tightly and clambers up, but doesn’t let go immediately. “Subin,” he says, drawing the younger man close. “Has anyone ever told you you’re amazing?” 

“You, every time we finish a hunt,” Subin answers plainly, but there’s a slow, faint blush spreading across his cheeks as Chan continues to stare at him. “Hyung, your flattery is too much sometimes.”

“It’s not flattery.”

“Okay,” Subin says, still pink. He pulls his hands away and fiddles with his cuffs. Then, in a smaller voice, he adds, “Thank you.” 

He’s so sincere in his thanks that Chan’s face feels warm too; he touches a hand to his cheek, then quickly lets it fall to his side. “So… time for ‘thank God we survived’ drinks?” he asks, trying to diffuse the awkward atmosphere. 

“Can we not call them that? It was never in doubt.” Before Chan can protest, Subin fixes him with a glare. It’s about as intimidating as an angry Pomeranian. “I won’t let you die. _Ever_.” He registers what he said a moment later and splutters. “I—I mean, that’s—I promised. Blood pact and everything.” 

“Yeah, right.” Chan’s answering smile is bright and teasing enough to hide anything else he might be feeling. “Blood pact. Not because you like me or anything.” 

“Hyung, _no_.”

“No you don’t like me? I’m gutted.”

“Stop.” Laughing, Subin tugs him forward, and Chan contemplates ‘accidentally’ tripping and falling into him. But he’s not a dumb, lovesick high school student anymore. He falls into step with Subin and slings an arm around his shoulder, casual and friendly enough not to mean anything else. 

One day, he’ll believe that.

* * *

The truth is, Chan stumbles into this life by sheer accident. 

Unlike Subin or his older brother Seungwoo, Chan wasn’t born to be the big damn savior of the country. He wasn’t born with a family burden, a family _curse_. He’s a normal dude from Seongnam who likes music and _bungeoppang_ and lives in a shitty loft apartment with three other guys. He’s not used to nightly hunts, grotesque demons, or violent battles being a normal part of his life. 

All he does is write down a simple number scrawled on the bathroom door of the city’s premier gay nightclub in what is best described as ‘a moment of stupidity’. _FOR A GOOD TIME CALL XXXX-XXXX._ He figures it’s a sex hotline, and considering he’s been suffering a long, long dry spell since his last break up, he can really use the service for those lonely nights. 

That it turns out to be the number for a demon hunting organization headed by the illustrious head of the Han clan is a weird twist of fate. Han Seungwoo, who has the ‘erotic’ voice of a phone sex operator, really leans into the misunderstanding during their first conversation. Somehow, he convinces Chan to meet up in person, where he tells him the truth about—well, everything. And there is, tragically, absolutely no sex involved. 

He’s been living this life for eight months now, but there are days where it still doesn’t seem real. The collection of scars he’s accumulated, the faded bruises and vivid memories he revisits in his nightmares prove otherwise. 

“It was one of my ancestors,” Seungwoo explains the first time they meet, seated on a bench in a local park. “He summoned a demon and let it possess him for… we don’t really know anymore, actually. That part of the story is lost.” He sighs and looks down at his hands, while Chan replays the word ‘demon’ on loop in his mind. “His family managed to exorcise it, but by that time, it caused a lot of damage. Tore open a ton of portals to hell all over the country for its demon brethren to pour through.” 

Chan laughs nervously. “Is this a YA novel?” 

The joke pulls a wry smile out of Seungwoo. “I wish.” His eyes, on the other hand, remain steady and sad. “After my ancestor came back to his senses, he was stricken with remorse, wanting to make things right somehow. So he started hunting the demons loose all over Korea and, later, trained the rest of his family to hunt them as well. And we’ve been doing that ever since—fighting demons and keeping people safe.”

None of it makes sense to him, but Chan has a good radar for bullshit and this doesn’t _stink_. Something about Seungwoo is startlingly honest; he genuinely believes what he’s saying, like it’s a matter of fact. Chan’s not sure how to respond to that. “If this is like, a family thing, then why are you recruiting? And why _me_?” 

“We just don’t have the manpower to fight them anymore.” Seungwoo’s mouth twists unhappily. “Not enough members of the family want to do this with their lives. It’s my fault; I’m not a good enough head of the clan. If I was, then—“ Breaking off, he drags a hand down his face. “We’ve seen a sharp increase in demon activity recently, too. I—I’m doing the best with what I can right now.”

Chan’s never heard someone sound so broken—or on the edge of it—before. Then again, he’s never heard someone claim demons are legit before either. “Why you, though?” Seungwoo continues, throwing him a small, wan smile. “You’re the only one who called.”

“For _sex_.” 

“I can assign you to hunt succubi?” 

Chan gapes at him. “I found your number in a _gay nightclub_.” 

“Incubi?” Seungwoo tries. 

He can feel a migraine coming on and wants to rub his temples. “Hey, look. I honestly feel for you, but you understand why this story sounds crazy to me, right? Even if it’s not crazy, _I_ would be to agree to risk my life fighting demons or whatever.” 

Seungwoo’s face falls. “I do understand. I’m sorry.” Then, as quickly as he crumples, he pulls himself back together and gives Chan a polite bow. “Thank you for listening, anyway. It was nice to talk to someone about,” he hesitates and waves a hand around. “All this insanity.”

“Maybe you should start a podcast—“

Cutting him off mid-sentence by bringing a finger to his lips, Seungwoo slides a stiletto blade out of his sleeves and flicks it just above Chan’s head. He barely has time to process before something howls and falls out of the tree behind him.

“That demon trailed you here,” Seungwoo explains, retrieving his knife and slipping it back up his sleeve. “It was probably waiting to jump you on the way home.” He catches Chan’s dumbfounded eye and winks. “You’re welcome.” 

Whistling under his breath, Seungwoo strides away, leaving Chan frozen in place. When he finally works up the nerve to look, he finds the rapidly melting corpse of what looks like a cat with a scorpion's tail. It’s the most dramatic kind of proof of Seungwoo’s words, but proof nonetheless. 

He calls Seungwoo up again. What else can he really do? It’s impossible to pretend he doesn’t know what he knows, and now that he’s staring right at the truth, he can’t ignore it either. He’s never been one to shy away from difficult realities or what has to be done. He’s never been one to think too deeply before leaping headfirst into something either. 

Seungwoo is happy to welcome him into the fold. His gratitude is an overwhelming thing; it leaves Chan unsettled. It’s relief, plain and simple, that the burden is one he doesn’t have to carry alone, but Chan isn’t deserving of that kind of trust. He’s not sure what use he’ll be. 

Despite his misgivings, Seungwoo sways him into signing a contract in blood to join his organization over a glass of soju. “Don’t worry,” he says, patting Chan on the back. “We won’t throw you into the deep end. You’ll get some training first.”

“This is not as reassuring as you want it to sound,” Chan protests.

In this case, ‘training’ means handing Chan off to Seungwoo’s younger brother, Han Subin. Supposedly, he’ll be teaching Chan the ancient and sacred ways of demon hunting, while Seungwoo busies himself doing other things like… hunting demons and scribbling his number on more bathroom stalls, maybe. Chan’s guessing. 

Subin’s the opposite of Seungwoo in many ways. He’s unintimidating, for one. Tiny, really, with wire-rimmed glasses, floppy hair, and a soft voice Chan initially has to strain to hear. The oversized hoodie he’s wearing makes him look like he’s drowning in it. He barely seems like someone who can take _Chan_ on, much less a demon. 

He also, unfortunately, looks like the kind of guy Chan had a bad habit of falling for. 

Chan’s not immature enough to start talking about ‘ideal types’, but as a self-aware adult, he knows that guys like Subin are an archetype that he can’t help but get involved with. It always ends messily; they’re usually looking for something Chan can’t provide, but he tries to be what they need anyway. It doesn’t work out, and he’s left heartbroken at the end of it. Rinse and repeat. 

It’s a good thing demon hunting isn’t conducive to romance. 

“Fair warning,” Chan says, after they shake hands and introduce themselves. “I have no clue what I’m doing here. I don't know how much I'll be able to do, either.” 

“It’ll be alright, hyung.” Subin has a pleasant smile, not carefree, exactly, but guileless and youthful. Despite appearances, he's a bundle of tightly contained energy poised to spill out at any moment. “At least you look strong. The last guy who joined us looked like he’d blow away in the wind.” 

“Seungwoo said I was the only one who called,” Chan frowns. 

“He always says that to sound more desperate.” Subin pauses, his eyebrows knitting together. “He’s right, in a way. No one sticks around long enough for it to matter.” 

Chan doesn’t like the sound of that, but decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. “What happened to him, then? The last guy?” 

“He died,” Subin says, matter-of-factly, but his eyes are hard. He doesn't elaborate.

“Ah,” Chan says. Then, “I don’t want to die.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t.” Despite the levity in his voice, Subin’s gaze is earnest. _Serious_. His words feel like a promise and a resolution, and Chan wonders just how many allies he’s seen fall in his time as a hunter. He wonders how much that fucks a person up. 

He wants to believe in Subin, but demons aren’t a foe you can guarantee anything against. Can Subin even take care of himself, much less Chan? The question looms over him, but he doesn’t want to crush his spirit then and there. “Okay,” he says slowly. “But if I do die, I’ll come back and haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Deal.” Pulling a small knife from his belt, Subin makes a shallow, diagonal cut on his palm before Chan can stop him. “Blood pact?” Blinking, he holds the knife out to Chan expectantly, like this is a completely normal thing to do and not strange as shit. 

"The fuck is up with you Hans and your blood pacts?" Chan grumbles, but takes the knife anyway. Maybe bloodletting is par for the course where demons are involved. His own cut is tiny, and he has to squeeze in order to get any blood out of the wound. They shake on it after that, with Subin grinning confidently and Chan trying to mimic his expression and failing. 

When he pulls away, he gets the sense that he’s standing on the edge of a precipice already, his toes curling into the dirt as he gazes down at the sheer drop. Take one step and he’ll fall—but he isn’t sure what he’s scared of falling into. Subin is just as daunting as the demons. 

Sometimes he thinks back to that moment of weightless suspension, of anticipation, and questions the reason why he took that step forward and jumped willingly.

He convinces himself it’s the demons, the good of humanity, but maybe it’s just for Subin.

* * *

The current headquarters of the Seoul contingent of the Han clan is located in an upscale Western-style bar in Itaewon called _Magpie’s Nest_. It’s styled after a 1920s speakeasy, all glitzy furniture and dim lighting. However, the unique aesthetics disguise what really goes on within. 

For example, Chan knows the door to the back leads to a maze of rooms and corridors, each hiding a new surprise. Meeting rooms, weapon storage, the infirmary, the infernal library—and below, the holding cells. On nights they’re full, the screams of the damned are drowned out by the music, but they still ring in Chan’s ears. Even when they’re empty, the screams _ring_. 

He can’t relax in the bar now that he’s aware of what happens behind the scenes.

But Subin likes the place, and it’s the only bar in the area where they can get decent drinks and have the freedom to talk about their hunts. As a bonus, it’s mostly deserted at this hour. Hanse is cleaning up behind the counter when they enter, but he’s a permanent fixture here and Chan’s not exactly surprised to see him.

Hanse’s eyes glow red as he greets the two of them dispassionately. “Let me guess,” he says, resting both elbows on the counter. His smoldering gaze rakes over Subin first, then Chan, checking for any injuries. The relieved smile that splits across his face when he finds them unhurt exposes his sharp, pointed teeth. “You want a drink?” 

“Yep, the usual.” Chan takes a seat at the counter and drums his fingers on his knees. “Actually, no. Beer’s fine. Whatever you have on tap.”

Subin climbs onto the stool beside him. Their legs knock against each other, limbs tangling for a moment before Subin shifts away. It’s too purposeful to be an accident; Subin has perfect control of his body and moves with an effortless grace. Chan says nothing, but the corners of his mouth lift slightly. “Just a coffee for me,” Subin says, stifling a yawn.

“It’s like four am,” Chan chides, as Hanse turns away to grab their drinks. “You’re going to be up all day.” 

Shrugging, Subin reaches for a nearby paper napkin and begins shredding it to pieces. “I have class at eight anyway. Might as well stay up for it.” 

File that under things he doesn’t miss about university. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve handled that demon on my own.” He really, really could _not_ have, but Chan hates that Subin has to sacrifice his sleep to do this thankless job. It’s not even like he can use it as an excuse to explain late assignments or why he’s napping through lectures. What’s he going to say? _Sorry I didn’t hand my essay in, but demons were rampaging through the city last night?_

“No offence hyung,” Subin elbows him with a playful smirk. “But I don’t think you’re suited for solo missions yet.”

“He’s right,” Hanse says, materializing out of nowhere with their drinks. “Even the lowest of low level demons would eat you for breakfast and shit you out without blinking an eye.” 

Taking a sip of his beer, Chan sizes Hanse up. He’s skinny underneath his stylish black clothes, all hard angles. His bleached blond hair washes him out, and the myriad of piercings he sports make him look pretty, rather than scary. “I could take you.”

“Wanna try?” Blue flames lick the ends of Hanse’s hair, his smile predatory. The sight reminds Chan that no matter how human he looks, he’s a demon first and foremost. He doesn’t understand the particulars of Hanse’s treaty with Seungwoo, just that he provides them with information and expertise in exchange for protection. So far, it seems to be a good deal. Doesn’t stop Chan from being a little wary of him. 

Subin watches their exchange over the rim of his cup. “Don’t scare the novice, Hanse hyung,” he says mildly. 

“I’m just throwing down a challenge,” Hanse answers, but the flames fade, leaving behind a faint whiff of smoke. “Your protégée is all bark and no bite, Subin.” 

“I can bite, just not in public,” Chan says breezily, and Hanse looks at him with renewed interest. “Anyway,” he continues, turning to Subin. “I just mean, you should take care of yourself more, rely on other people when you need to. Doesn't have to be me.” Subin does _so_ much, it’s kind of insane. “You don’t have to be like, _on_ all the time, you know? The wunderkind and all. It’s okay to rest.” 

Everyone asks for too much from Subin, Chan included, and one day he’s going to break himself trying to meet all their expectations. He doesn’t want to see that happen, or contribute to it in any way. But telling someone to chill is a lot different than _actually_ getting them to take a step back, and most people aren’t as stubborn as Subin. 

“Is it?” Subin stares at a point on the wall, fingers burying in the mound of shredded paper in front of him. “What if I do need to be ‘on’ all the time?”

Chan gets the sense that this is a question he doesn’t need to answer, but he gives it a shot anyway. “No one in this world is indispensable.” 

“Seungwoo hyung is,” Subin says immediately. “And because of that, I have to—” He halts and shakes his head, seemingly realizing he’s said too much. “T—Thanks for worrying, hyung.” He sneaks a smile at Chan, warm and shy. “It’s nice to hear, sometimes.”

He’s not dumb enough to overlook the way Subin failed to acknowledge his advice. Chan wonders if he has the right to push; he and Subin spend a lot of time together, but at the end of the day, Chan can never fully comprehend what Subin goes through. He’s not the one with a family burden resting on his shoulders. He’s not the one destined for this fight. 

But, as with the rampaging demon, he’s not just going to sit here and watch Subin grind himself into dust. “I’m here whenever you need me,” Chan says quietly, shifting to press his leg against Subin’s. “And one day I’m gonna be good enough that you won’t need to push yourself babysitting me.” 

Subin blinks. “But I like spending time with you, hyung.”

“You what now?” Hanse interjects, his eyes flicking from Chan’s grinning face to Subin’s flushed expression. “Say that again, but louder this time.” 

“No, and no.” Turning away, Subin downs the rest of his coffee in a rush. 

While Hanse interrogates Subin about what he thinks he heard (and what Subin did or did not say), Chan finishes his beer and tries to convince himself that Subin’s words don’t mean what he wants them to mean, that Subin and his overwhelming sense of responsibility drives him forward, that he just doesn’t want to lose yet another hunter—  
  
He fails miserably.

* * *

  
  
Training, Chan learns quickly, is not just limited to the physical. There is _plenty_ of that as well, since Subin needs to teach him how to fight, but he’s also required to bring him up to speed on the world of demons. Chan spends just as much time in a makeshift classroom scribbling down notes from the blackboard as he does getting hot and bothered in the training room. 

By which he means sweating through his shirt and getting his ass kicked by Subin, not other… decidedly more _fun_ activities. Occasionally, his brain short-circuits and attempts to take them there, but Subin never rises to the bait. He’s coolly professional for the first little while. Chan’s relentless charm eventually whittles him down to ‘friendly’, but he still remains all business. 

Beyond sparring, there’s so much he doesn’t know. The knowledge Seungwoo and Subin take for granted is all new to Chan, and frankly, half of it still sounds like fiction. Still, he crams his brain full of whatever Subin throws at him in the confines of the stuffy library—everything from the variances in classifications of demons, the complexities of infernal hierarchies, strengths and weaknesses of different types of demonic creatures, how to spot and combat them.

The one topic Subin tends to steer clear of is his own family history. Chan asks a few times, but he deflects or asks him to talk to Seungwoo about it. Eventually, he drops his questions; it’s clearly a private matter. Besides, he’s more interested in practical information, like how to tell if your boss was actually a demon in disguise. 

“Low ranking demons are… well, they look all _wrong_ ,” Subin explains. He unrolls a dusty old scroll and slides it across the table to Chan, pointing at the depiction of a mismatched monster he’s quickly come to recognize as a level two demon. It takes the shape of a horse with an alligator’s head and looks more comical than threatening, but Subin assures him it’s the farthest thing from funny when one is galloping towards you at full speed. “Usually, they take the form of animals that don’t exist, so they’re easy to spot. These demons’ bodies tend to decay really quickly because they don’t know how to manage their powers in our realm.”

“No offense, but they look like something a second grader would come up with during art class.” He’s pretty sure he has an old doodle of this exact concept. 

“Maybe so, but they’re dangerous.” Climbing to his feet, Subin peruses the scrolls stacked on a nearby shelf and hesitates before pulling one out. He hefts it in his hands, his eyes turning thoughtful. “The high ranking demons, on the other hand, are really hard to find. They can take the form of humans, and they typically have a better handle on their powers so you don’t get the decay and weird characteristics that give other demons away.” 

That sounds ominous. He’d rather take the cartoon monsters. “So high ranking demons could be literally anyone, anywhere?”

“Yep.” Subin unrolls the scroll to reveal the image of a man in a hanbok. For all intents and purposes, he looks human. He has a shrewd glint to his eyes, and his smile is familiar—it’s an expression Chan could easily see on a million faces. “The only way to confirm if someone is a high ranking demon is to find their seal on their body. It’s the only thing that gives them away.” 

Chan learned about seals earlier—they’re sigils unique to each demon, carved somewhere onto their earthly bodies. Broken, as a rule of thumb, shattered and ruined in some way. To ensure a demon won’t respawn elsewhere in the country, hunters have to complete the seal, to make it whole before the demon disintegrates. Literally, to seal them away. Chan’s never had to do one of those, but he’s seen a few depictions of them. They’re intricate, but he probably has enough art skill to complete one of them. He hopes. 

Demons passing as humans, though. It makes him shudder. “I hate this,” Chan says. “What if I meet one of these human-demon things?”

Subin looks a little tired. “Just run.” 

Sound, if unhelpful, advice. Is it harder fighting a monster with a human’s face? Or are they simply that powerful? He leans back in his chair contemplating the questions until realization strikes and jerks him upright. “Wait, is Hanse…?” 

“He’s a half demon,” Subin explains quickly, gathering up the scrolls strewn over the table. “They’re called _cambions_ most of the time, but he hates that term so we try to avoid using it. Either way, his dad is a demon, but his mom was a hundred percent human.” 

Chan’s always thought of Hanse as otherworldly, but he never imagined his hunch was spot on. “But functionally, he’s a demon, right?” Subin nods, and he continues, “He kinda looks it, with the red eyes and the shark teeth.” 

“I think he keeps those for the aesthetic. And to unnerve people.” 

Yeah, that sounds like Hanse. Chan watches Subin return the scrolls to their shelves, still deep in thought. “Are all demons inherently evil?” he asks, following a long stretch of silence. “Like, do we have to hunt them down and kill them? The high ranking ones, I mean. The ones who blend in with humans.” 

Subin returns to the table and drops into the chair across from him. “Why would you ask that?” His tone is neutral, but suspicion and caution lurk behind his eyes. 

“It’s just—” Chan’s not sure how to organize his thoughts. “You think Hanse’s a good person, right? You trust him?” 

After some hesitation, Subin nods. “I do trust him, but he’s _Hanse_.” 

“What if there are other demons out there like him? Just minding their own business and living their lives?” 

Subin’s nose scrunches. “Hanse’s father was terrible, though,” he says. “A really horrible entity. And he seemed like your average high ranking demon. So I don’t know if ‘peaceful’ demons exist, or it’s just a Hanse thing.” 

“Wait, if he was horrible, then how did he and Hanse’s mom get together?”

“Just because someone falls in love doesn’t mean they automatically become a better person.” A person Subin’s age shouldn’t sound so cynical or sure of themselves, and yet he manages to pull off both as he pushes his glasses up and rubs his eyes. 

Love, huh? Is it truly such a universal feeling that even demons can experience it? “Can demons love?” Chan asks finally. He’s not sure why he’s asking, or why it matters to him, but love’s one of those emotions he feels makes people better, not worse. Even though it hurts, and sucks, it’s meant to be uplifting. 

“You’d be surprised at what demons are capable of feeling.” Seungwoo’s voice cuts through the mood, dry and tired. Both Chan and Subin turn to the door in unison; Seungwoo’s leaning against the door frame, his shirt splattered with blood. Subin almost jumps to his feet, but Seungwoo gestures for him to remain seated. “Not my blood,” he says, by way of explanation, and sweeps his hair back out of his face. “But yes, they have the capacity to love. They also have the capacity for mercy, restraint, compassion, grief….” He trails off, staring into the distance. 

“Hyung?” Subin eventually prompts softly, and Seungwoo snaps back to attention with a rueful smile. 

“So I guess to answer your question, Chan, maybe they’re not all evil. Some, I think, are here for their own reasons. Some even care about humans and aren’t interested in causing trouble for us.” He pushes himself off the doorframe and sighs. “But none of that matters. It’s our duty to seal _all_ demons away, not just the murderous ones.” 

After exchanging a few words with Subin about Chan’s progress, Seungwoo excuses himself to get cleaned up. Subin watches him go, concern etched across his features, only turning back to look at Chan once Seungwoo’s footsteps have died away. “Hyung almost died fighting one,” he says quietly. “It was a couple of years ago; he was in such bad shape that I—” He breaks off, his hands clenching into fists under the table. “They may not all be evil, but I _hate_ them for hurting him.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s easy for him to ask these questions as an outsider. He hasn’t faced the same challenges, the same losses as Subin has. Demons still creep him out, but if Hanse’s decent, then logically, there should be other decent demons as well. Do they deserve death? Could he kill one of them? 

He sneaks a glance at Subin, who seems to be wrapped up in his own thoughts. By Subin’s own words, he shouldn’t have to— _couldn’t_ , most likely—but it weighs on him. 

“You’re a good brother,” he ventures, after a while. 

Subin looks up, a fleeting smile passing over his face. “Not really. I’m just—always on his side.” 

“You never want to go ape shit and run away from all this?” 

“I can’t.” He doesn’t even sound like the thought crossed his mind. “Do…” Subin stops and swallows. “Do you want to run away?” 

There’s no mask of professionalism here, no detachment. The question comes from a raw place, vulnerability causing his eyes to shake. Even if Chan wanted to say yes, one look at the nervousness on Subin’s face would make him reconsider. 

“No,” he says, reaching under the table to squeeze Subin’s hand. “Not yet, anyway. I hate running.” 

Slowly, tentatively, Subin smiles, and Chan thinks, fuck. He’s really gone. 

* * *

Chan arrives back at his loft at dawn. The trek from _Magpie’s Nest_ to his building is fairly short, but he’d lingered at the bar to spend more time with Subin before forcing himself to head home. Chan knows he’ll probably regret the delay at some point during the day, but he couldn’t pass the moment up. It’s hard to come up with reasons to spend time with Subin outside of their nighttime hunting activities, so he has to make the most of it when he can. 

One of his roommates, Sooil, is already awake and shoveling rice into his mouth when Chan stumbles in through the door. “Wild night?” he asks, wagging his eyebrows. The overall sleazy effect is ruined by the grains of rice clinging to the area around his mouth.

“Kinda,” Chan responds, kicking off his shoes at the entrance and sliding his feet into his house slippers. Half the truth is better than a full lie. The vague bits and pieces his roommates know about his life after dark is rooted in reality, for the most part. 

“Tied up with your boyfriend? Or _by_ , if that’s what you’re into.” 

‘Hanging out with Subin’ is his go-to explanation for where he gets off to. “What’s with your rope kink? Subin’s not a dirty old man.” Chan doesn’t bother correcting Sooil; if he wants to think Subin is Chan’s boyfriend, he can’t stop him. “Take your fetishes and begone, thot.” 

Sooil makes an affronted noise. “Rope is a _young_ person’s game, but alright. What crawled up your ass and died?” 

Something died, but it wasn’t… He doesn’t even know how to broach the subject. “Nothing. I’m going to bed.” 

“Hey, can you wake Seungsik before you crash?" Sooil sets his bowl down and peers up at him. "He needs to get to the bakery quickly and you know he sleeps like the dead.” 

“Fine.” Giving Sooil a quick wave, Chan heads to Seungsik and Seongwu’s room. The door is closed, and he stops in front of it, listening for the telltale sounds of Seungsik’s snoring. It’s quiet. _Too_ quiet. That can only mean one of two things: either Seungsik is awake, or Seongwu suffocated him with a pillow. 

“Seungsik, you there?” Chan pounds on the door. No response. “Come on, I know you’re probably awake.” Still no response. “Seungsik, I’m tired as shit and I swear to fucking god, if you’re—” He twists the knob and throws the door open to find Seungsik standing in the middle of the room, his back facing the door. His shirt is bunched around his neck, and his pants are pooled around his ankles. 

“Sorry, I was trying to answer my boss’ texts and change at the same time,” Seungsik says, tossing his phone onto his bed. He pivots while pulling his pants up, his eyes narrowing when he finds Chan staring dumbly at him. “Chan? Is something wrong?” 

Many things are wrong. The world tilts. Chan’s grip on the doorknob slips and he lets out a strangled noise as he pitches forward onto his knees. 

“Chan?” Seungsik takes a step forward, but something in Chan’s eyes makes him halt.

He can’t think, can’t breathe. Because carved into Seungsik’s back was half of a red sigil, a crescent moon shape encasing the infernal symbols Chan’s become intimately familiar with over the course of the past eight months. The rest of Seungsik is human, but the sigil is—

“ _Demon_ ,” Chan chokes out. 

Seungsik pales. The temperature in the room hikes up a couple of degrees as he rocks back and forces out a laugh. It twists his features in a way Chan has never seen before, and eventually dies in his throat. Seungsik's always been a crappy liar; maybe it shouldn't surprise him that even with this, he gives his hand away too easily.

His stricken expression leaves no doubt in Chan's mind. Seungsik, his roommate and best friend of five years, the guy who takes care of all the succulents scattered all over the apartment thanks to Seongwu’s addiction, who cries during most Ghibli movies, who knows the lyrics to every single Apink song and sings Mr. Chu while making dinner, who’s Chan’s mom’s favorite son despite not being related to her, who holds Chan’s hand through every single bad day and heartbreak, is a demon. 

“Yes,” Seungsik says finally, his eyes darting around the room nervously. “Hi.” 

Chan crawls back into the kitchen and, ignoring Sooil’s alarm, throws up into the sink.


	2. part two

The night before his first hunt, Subin takes Chan to the VIP section of the _Magpie’s Nest_ —it’s smoky and secluded, far enough removed from the main area that the music fades into the background and there’s little risk of anyone stumbling past the thick maroon curtains. 

For some insane reason, Chan thinks they’re here to make out. He’s a little tipsy; Hanse’s been slipping him drinks the entire evening which are either free or going on his tab. He hopes it’s the former, or that’s going to be a _long_ ass tab Chan has no way of paying off. Demon hunting is more of a volunteer job than a paying gig, after all, and his actual job as a hotel concierge doesn’t bring in the big bucks. 

The whole night has a celebratory edge to it, and maybe that’s why Chan thinks—or deludes himself into thinking—that there’s something different about the way Subin looks at him. They’ve been spending a lot of time together ‘training’, with Seungwoo dropping by only occasionally for progress updates. Most of the time, it’s just Chan and Subin alone, trading jokes and furtive looks and dancing around the subject of—

Well. If they’re dancing around it, he can’t really put a name to it.

But Seungwoo is waiting for them in the VIP section, along with Hanse and another man squeezed into the booth beside him. Chan deflates at the sight of them, his heart further shriveling when he sees Subin greet the strange man with too much enthusiasm, nearly falling into his lap when they hug. The stranger’s blue hair is stupid, Chan thinks viciously. _So there._

The blue-haired man introduces himself to Chan as Im Sejun. “I’m just here for the show,” he says with a toothy grin, and Seungwoo whacks him on the back of the head before Chan can respond. 

“You’re here to do a job,” Seungwoo chides. Rubbing his head, Sejun grumbles and reaches for his drink, a neon orange liquid that doesn’t look fit for human consumption. Hanse catches Chan looking at it and smirks, shushing him behind Sejun’s back. Chan rolls his eyes but remains silent. 

“Tonight is your formal induction to the clan,” Seungwoo continues, turning to Chan. He rises from his seat and presses a vial to Chan’s palm. “Here is a potion that will permanently heighten your senses and better equip you to fight demons.” He gestures to Sejun, who’s now choking and gasping for air as a result of having taken a sip of that questionable drink. Subin scrambles to force water down his throat while Hanse cackles in the background. “Sejun came up with it. He’s a witch.” 

Maybe the casual introduction of witches to his worldview _should_ startle him, but Chan shrugs and takes it in stride. Makes sense. 

Wiping tears of pain out of the corner of his eyes, Sejun looks at him and wiggles his fingers. “I’m the one who will be applying the— _goddess, that shit is awful, Hanse; you’re a dick_ —the rune to your wrist too.” 

“Rune?” 

Beside him, Subin exposes his forearm to reveal a tattoo. It reminds Chan of a demon seal, but not quite—instead of harsh angles and angry strokes, the lines that make up the rune are flowing, curving. They make Chan think of the ocean, of waves. “It ties you to, uh, _us_ ,” Subin explains, pointing to Seungwoo and himself. “It’ll alert us whenever you’re in danger; the skin turns red and glows really hot, and the feeling gets worse the closer the danger.” 

“The rune has minor healing properties as well,” Seungwoo adds. 

“Yeah,” Sejun says, eyeing the neon drink like he wants to go in for seconds, as if it didn’t just almost kill him moments ago. “It won’t keep you from dying, but you’ll just… die _slower_.” 

“Fun. Does it come in other colors?” 

“Nope. More of a ‘one-size-fits-all’ thing.” Sejun stands and grabs Chan’s hand, his fingers bursting into strange blue sparks. Chan keeps his eyes open as Sejun draws a rune identical to Subin’s on his forearm. It doesn’t burn—rather, it’s _cold_ , and the icy chill seeps into his veins and causes him to shiver. Once it is complete, Sejun steps back with a flourish. 

Chan flexes his forearm. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s still freezing. “So is this standard practice or…?”

“We used to have an actual initiation handbook,” Seungwoo crosses his arms over his chest and chuckles. “Back when the head of the family would induct disciples into the clan on a regular basis. We lost it several generations ago, though, so whatever you see here is stuff we mostly made up.” His eyes slide over to Subin. “My brother’s done a good job of working out new policies.” 

Subin blushes. “I didn’t do that much.”

“You came up with the training regime, _and_ you found Sejun.” 

“Let the record state that Subin seduced me into helping you,” Sejun pipes up, and if possible, Subin’s face grows redder.

“Hyung,” he says, darting a glance at Chan. “Don’t you need to get going?” 

Sejun makes a face, but complies as Seungwoo leads him beyond the thick curtains to talk about payment. Hanse slipped back out to the bar earlier, so it’s just Subin and Chan here now. Before Sejun disappears out the other side, he throws a look back at Chan over his shoulder and says, “Good luck, new guy. Hope you last longer than the last one.” Seungwoo bops him on the head again and hisses something that sounds like shut up, but Chan can’t make it out for certain. 

Once they’re alone, Subin sinks down into the empty booth and rests his head in his hands. “I want a drink,” he mumbles. 

Chan takes the seat beside him. He opens his mouth to ask what Subin wants so he can place an order for them, but what comes out is, “Are you dating Sejun?”

“What?” Subin’s head shoots up. “No! No… well. _No_.” 

“No?”

“Not anymore,” Subin amends. “We’re just friendly. He’s—he’s a good acquaintance to have.” Not giving Chan a chance to ask for details, which he desperately wants to, Subin narrows his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be worried about tomorrow instead of my love life, hyung?” 

“I can multitask. Both are important to me.” Though maybe this is for the best. He’s sobered up a bit more from before, so the jealousy isn’t as all-consuming as it might have been, but Chan would really rather not think about Subin with someone else if he can help it. Especially not, he reflects grudgingly, handsome witches with magical fingers. 

Exhaling, he leans back and laces his fingers behind his head. “I’m scared,” he admits finally, his voice almost drowned out by the faint thumping of the music. “Trying not to dwell on it too much, but how do you prepare to fight demons, really?” Chan hesitates, sneaking a look at Subin. He looks a little worried; a crease forms between his eyebrows as he studies Chan closely. “Everyone keeps… I don’t know, mentioning your former recruits, and I don’t know what happened to them so I don’t know how to avoid meeting the same end either.”

“You’re not going to meet any end, hyung.” Subin sounds sure of that. Chan wonders how much of it is bravado. “But you’re right—it’s not fair for us to ask you to risk your life and then not tell you about…” He swallows. “What can happen. What _did_ happen.” 

A spasm of pain passes over Subin’s features and makes him reconsider “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I need to.” Subin takes a deep breath and folds his hands on his lap. “The recruit we had before you—his name was Choi Byungchan. He was really perceptive; he found the demons on his own first, and came to us later. He wasn’t great with the actual _fighting_ part of the job, but he was really skilled at tracking and sealing.” His voice grows quieter as he continues to speak. “We were hunting together one night and—there was a demon, mid-level. We split up to track him down. I told him not to engage; just follow it and send word back to me when it stopped.” 

Subin’s hands are clenched into fists now, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms. “Five minutes after we separated, my arm was—felt like it was on _fire_. I ran around trying to figure out where Byungchan hyung and the demon were, and when I got there—”

Chan has a sinking feeling he knows how this story ends. “I’m sorry,” he says, not sure what comfort he can offer for an old nightmare. 

Subin closes his eyes. “He wasn’t cleared for solo missions,” he says dully. “That’s the whole reason I was there. But I _still_ left him. I _still_ let him—“

“Subin, you have to know that wasn’t your fault.”

“I could have charged in and tried to save him.” The admission takes a lot out of Subin; he slumps and brings his hands up to his face, fingers pulling at skin. “I could have—Byungchan hyung was still alive when I arrived. But the demon was stronger than what I can fight alone, and I thought if I did, I would only die. We’d _both_ die. So I convinced myself that I was—I was making a strategic retreat, that I was running to find Seungwoo hyung because he’d magically fix everything, when really…” He lets out a hollow laugh. “Really, I didn’t want to die. I didn’t think it would be _worth_ it for me to die like that.” 

Chan doesn’t know what to say to that. Seems like a lot to put on one person. Seems unfair to put Subin in a position to make these calls, to dump all this responsibility on his shoulders. Seungwoo probably has it worse, but in that moment, Chan hates him a little bit for forcing Subin into this alongside him.

“I’ve always been good at making calculations, weighing risks and benefits,” Subin continues. His voice doesn’t waver, but neither does it hold much emotion. “But I don’t like the person I have to become when I think like _this_.” 

“Subin—”

“So I won’t make the same mistake. I _won’t_ ,” he says fiercely, fixing Chan with a determined, blazing look. “I’ll be there with you every step of the way, hyung. You can count on me.” 

“I trust you,” Chan says easily, and is surprised to find out that he means it in spite of everything Subin’s told him tonight. Subin’s eyes widen, then soften into a shaky smile of gratitude. He leans forward to grasp both of Chan’s hands in his own, and they sit there like that in silence for a few moments, savoring each other’s warmth. 

Maybe there’s nothing different in the way Subin looks at him. Maybe he’s just revisiting ghosts, dredging up old failures to cut himself on. Maybe they’re still where they were before, except that Chan wants to kiss him badly now—though maybe he always wants to. He does this; falls head over heels first, then treads water. 

One day, he’ll be pulled under and fail to resurface. But not tonight. He’s not drowning tonight.

* * *

Seungsik sits across from him at their thrift store dining table, picking at the peeling surface while Chan stares at him. He’d called his boss earlier to take the day off; she’d been less than pleased, and there’s a high chance Seungsik doesn’t have a job to go back to. Chan’s finding it hard to feel sympathetic right now.

Sooil left for work earlier, and the chances of Seongwu returning from his boyfriend’s place before noon are slim, which gives them several hours to talk in private, uninterrupted. Not that Chan knows where to start with this conversation. How do you talk to your roommate about being, well, not human?

No part of Seungsik looks like a demon. He has the kind of smile that can brighten up a room in an instant, with warm brown eyes reflecting the stars. But Chan saw the seal plain as day, an ugly thing spread over his back, marking him as a member of the infernal realm. He saw it, and now he can’t stop thinking of it when he looks at Seungsik. 

“We are going to talk about this,” Chan says. He looks down at his forearm; the rune has been oddly dormant this entire time. It’s not glowing red or burning hot enough to scald his arm. He takes that to mean Seungsik isn’t a threat and that he’s not in danger, but he’s still worried about it alerting Seungwoo and Subin before he has a chance to sort things out for himself.

“Okay,” Seungsik says readily, training his eyes on his face, expression open and honest. “Let’s talk.”

 _Shit_. He expected a little more resistance. Where is he supposed to start? A muscle in Chan’s face twitches as his mind whirs, finally settling on a basic, safe question. “How long have you been a demon?”

“Since the dawn of time.” 

_Wow_. “You’re old as balls.”

“Pretty much.” Seungsik’s expression breaks into a smile, but quickly fades when Chan doesn’t return it. 

He supposes there’s no two ways around it. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, leaning forward. His hands grip the edge of the table, and he’s suddenly conscious of the blessed silver he has concealed on his person. 

Seungsik looks wary, then weary. “I was kicked out of Hell. Exiled, for all intents and purposes. I can’t return, as things stand right now, but I don’t think I would’ve stayed even if they allowed me to.” Quirking a brow at Chan’s dumbfounded expression, he chuckles. “I fell in love with the wrong person,” he explains. “Then I saved a life. The latter was what really pissed the princes of Hell off, though. As a species, we don’t do acts of kindness.” 

“They banished you for _that_?” 

“And stripped half of my powers.” Seungsik doesn’t sound terribly concerned about it. “That’s why I only have half a seal. It makes me… weaker than other demons of my rank. You can’t possibly complete it accurately enough to send me back either.” 

He’s not sure how to process. Infernal politics and culture wasn’t really a subject covered in his curriculum. Chan didn’t think it was possible for something like this to happen, but… he scratches at the rune again. He’s never felt any ill intent emanating from Seungsik, never felt threatened or afraid in his presence, even when Seungsik is _angry_ at him for putting socks instead of plates in the dishwasher. 

He rubs his face. “What are you trying to do here, then?” he asks, and Seungsik stiffens. “What do you want? I mean, you’ve never attacked me or—Sooil or Seongwu, even though they probably deserve it.” _Even though you’re a demon and it’s in your nature._ “I just don’t understand.”

Seungsik leans back in his chair, silent. Minutes pass before he clears his throat and speaks. “I want to live quietly.” It comes out rough, like he’s being raked over coals while he says it. “I don’t want to hurt anyone or cause problems here on Earth. I’d rather stay out of everyone’s way and just—exist in peace.”

It should sound too good to be true. But Chan knows Seungsik, knows that he’s being honest. In all the years they’ve known each other, Seungsik has lived a low-key life; he’s boring, their friends have complained more than once. Seungsik always laughs their words off, but Chan wonders now if the boring life is by design. If this dull existence isn’t exactly what he wants, removed from the complications of hellfire.

He’s silent for so long that Seungsik nudges him with his foot under the table. “What are you thinking?” he asks quietly. 

“Fuck, I don’t know.” Chan doesn’t want to be thinking at all. “This is not my jurisdiction, exactly. Are you going to start eating people and go on a demonic rampage?”

“No…?”

“Then,” he says, then stops. Seungwoo’s duty is to seal all demons away, and Subin seems to hate all high ranking demons on principle. The right thing to do would be to tell them about this discovery, but Chan doesn’t know what they’d do with the knowledge. What they’d do to Seungsik if they knew. They all have too much blood on their hands for Chan to believe in peaceful solutions. 

“I don’t know,” he finishes lamely. “I need to think about this.”

Seungsik seems to accept that and sits back in his seat. “How did you know?” he asks after a pause. “How did you recognize the seal, I mean?”

That is the question, isn’t it? “Joined a cult,” Chan says off-handedly, then sighs. “Well, a clan of demon hunters. It’s a long story, but they gave me a crash course on all—“ He waves a hand around. “This. Didn’t expect to have to apply my new knowledge in my personal life, though.”

“Oh.” Seungsik’s eyes widen. “I think I know which group you’re talking about.” Chan jerks upright, and he hastens to add, “I’ve crossed paths with a hunter of theirs once or twice, but I’ve been careful! He doesn’t know where I live.” 

“But he knows _what_ you are.” 

“It was a long time ago. We met in a different city, a different time.” Seungsik’s smile is edged with a deep-rooted sadness Chan is surprised to see on his face. He wonders which of Seungwoo’s cousins he met—and how. “I doubt he remembers me much at all.” 

“Still, it’s a huge risk. The hunters living in this city are pretty formidable.” Subin always insists that Seungwoo’s skill is leagues above his own, and while Chan has never hunted alongside Seungwoo, he’s inclined to believe Subin’s assessment. 

“It’s alright! I don’t look like a demon, do I?”

Chan has to begrudgingly admit that he doesn’t. If he passed Seungsik in the street, he wouldn’t suspect he was anything but another twenty-something living his life. “Well. We’ve hunted in this neighborhood, so be careful. I’m not going to tell them about you, but anything can happen out there.”

Seungsik blinks. “You don’t have any reason to keep my secret.”

“Idiot,” Chan says, wanting to reach over the table and squeeze his cheeks. _Idiot_. Chan has every reason to keep Seungsik’s identity under wraps. “You’re my best friend. I’m going to protect you.” 

For a moment, Seungsik is speechless. The muscles in his jaw work furiously, but he doesn’t say anything, just stares at Chan like he’s seeing him for the first time. Then, finally, “How are you so sappy so early in the morning?”

“Shut up, spawn of Satan,” he replies, but the corners of his mouth lift in time to Seungsik’s laughter. How can he possibly think Seungsik is a creature of pure malice and evil? How can he see Seungsik as anything other than a good person? 

If Hanse can be an ally, someone who deserves to live on Earth and be left trusted, then Seungsik, a demon exiled from Hell for saving a life, surely can as well. 

Somehow, he doubts Seungwoo and Subin would see the situation in the same way. 

After he’s managed to squeeze in a couple of hours of shut eye and finished his shift at work, Chan trudges to the _Magpie’s Nest_. He’s not supposed to hunt tonight, but knowing Seungsik’s secret makes him uneasy and paranoid—with so much to protect now, he needs to stay informed. 

Hanse sees him the minute he stumbles through the door and directs him through the door in the back. “They’re having an ‘Important Strategy Meeting’,” he explains, air quotes and all. Chan wonders if it’s his imagination, but Hanse’s teeth seem sharper tonight. “I wasn’t invited. You weren’t either, come to think of it, but YOLO, right?” 

“Yeah, YOLO,” Chan echoes lifelessly, slipping past. 

He knows where they are—the strategy meetings always take place in Meeting Room A, which reminds him more of a English professor’s study than a conference room, but Seungwoo likes the ambiance, in his words. Sure enough, when he pushes the heavy door open, Seungwoo and Subin both turn to look at him, neither seeming surprised by his sudden appearance. 

“Hyung, did you get to rest?” Subin asks, his face lighting up as Chan enters and shuts the door behind him. He pats the seat beside him at the long table, and Chan reluctantly sinks into it. 

“A little.” Subin seems chipper; is it the result of coffee or a couple of naps? “What’s going on? Hanse said you guys were discussing something important.” 

“We were just talking about the high concentration of demons in the neighborhood you and Subin hit last night.” Seungwoo circles the blocks around Chan’s apartment building on the map of the city spread out in front of him, taking up most of the table. “Subin mentioned you were worried.”

“Oh, yeah.” It slipped his mind with all the Seungsik drama. “Do you know what’s causing it?”

“I had a hunch and wanted to confirm with Seungwoo hyung first, but…” Subin trades a look with Seungwoo, who nods. “It’s probably because of the presence of a high ranking demon in the area.” 

_Record scratch._ Chan almost blacks out for a moment, but manages to force out, “What?” 

“High rank demons command legions in Hell.” Seungwoo drums his fingers on the map, pensive. “Low rank demons are attracted to the power and sense of authority they possess; they tend to converge around their superiors, whether purposefully or unconsciously. I think it’s likely some high rank demon is drawing all these pests to them.” 

Shit, shit, _shit_. His throat is dry. Chan knows exactly who the high ranking demon is and where he lives. It’s like a sick game of Clue that he doesn’t want to win. _Seungsik, with the seal, in my loft._ “What should we do about it?” he asks eventually, corralling the panic threatening to overtake him. “I just mean, Subin said we shouldn’t try to fight high ranking demons.” 

“Not alone,” Seungwoo agrees. “But now that we have a location somewhat narrowed down, I’ll put a call out to all my cousins and bring them here to help us hunt it down.” 

Subin’s eyes are hard. “The demon _will_ die,” he says, resolved. 

“The demon will die,” Seungwoo repeats, but he looks resigned, exhaustion pulling at the corners of his eyes. He has none of the fire he usually has, though now that Chan thinks about it, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Seungwoo enthused about doing his duty.

Chan opens his mouth before snapping it shut. His nails draw blood from his palms as he thinks back to Seungsik, to the words he’d so carelessly said, not realizing his own powerlessness. _I’m going to protect you._

How is he supposed to protect him from this? 

* * *

His first night as a hunter is a disaster. 

The demon almost kills him. _Would_ have, had it not been for Subin. It’s the first time Chan has ever seen him in action, and he’s beautiful—deadly, but beautiful, his blades arcing in the moonlight. He’s mesmerized, even as blood pools under the hand he has pressed to his side, where the demon had taken a chunk out of him. 

When Subin returns after sealing the corpse, Chan is a little woozy. The rune Sejun put on his arm is doing its job, however. Even as he’s reeling from the blood loss, he can feel his body straining itself to close the wounds. Subin drops into a crouch beside him, his hands cupping Chan’s face with startling gentleness. “Hyung, are you—can you see me?” 

“You’re glowing,” Chan says seriously. 

“Hyung.” The pitch of Subin’s voice hikes. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Grabbing Subin’s arm, he makes an attempt to stand up, only to slip right back down. “I will be okay in a couple of minutes.” 

“Don’t push yourself.” The worry doesn’t fade from Subin’s voice as he pulls back and sits beside Chan, their bodies pressed together as the sky begins to lighten. The air is heavy with the scent of Chan’s blood, but it feels… almost tranquil, regardless. Peaceful. He could sit here forever. Maybe Subin could too. His breathing is even, calm, his blades discarded in the grass beside him. He looks so ethereal that Chan’s heart hurts.

“You rushed in to save me.” His voice sounds unnaturally loud in the silence. Subin tenses, but doesn’t reply. “When the demon—when it slashed me, you just dove in to kick its ass. No hesitation, just.” He mimes stabbing at the air. “That was _stupid_ , Subin.” 

“I told you,” Subin replies. “You can count on me.” 

“I think I just fell in love with you.” Chan’s tone is light enough to be joking, and he is—mostly. He feels like he fell in love with Subin a long time ago, but every now and then, he’s keenly aware of the way he’s plummeting headfirst—but he’s not scared, exactly. It’s exhilarating. It’s—

“You can’t,” Subin says, bringing all his thoughts to a screeching halt. The unhappy set of his mouth hardens as he sneaks a look at Chan before staring straight ahead. “Not with me, at least. You _can’t_.” 

“Why not?” 

“You know who I am. I will never be more than this.” He looks down at the blood still coloring his hands. “I’ve given my _entire_ life to this cause. I don’t exist outside of it. I don’t—” Breaking off, Subin closes his eyes. “You don’t deserve that, hyung. You deserve someone who can make you smile, who can fill you with life instead of drag you into death.” 

“You don’t have to do this for the rest of your life, Subin.” 

“I _do_. This is my family’s duty. Our responsibility. Seungwoo hyung and I—we can’t run away from who we are.” Before Chan can protest, he plows on. “I know you’re… a hunter now, but you can walk away from this when you get tired of risking your life. But as long as he’s doing this, I—”

“I get it,” Chan says. He wishes he didn’t, but he understands. “Don’t take my words too seriously, Subin.” _Don’t look at me like_ your _heart’s breaking when I_ — But he expected this from the start. It won’t work out, it won’t work out, it _won’t_. Doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“I'm sorry,” Subin says, when the silence grows oppressive. “I didn’t mean—” 

“It’s not your fault. Don’t take my words too seriously.”   
  
“You’re not going to—?” _quit_ , his eyes finish, though he doesn’t seem to want to vocalize it. It feels like he’s always waiting for Chan to leave, though Chan wants to laugh at the mere thought. He can’t now, even if he wanted to.

“I’m on your side, Subin.” Subin might be on Seungwoo’s side, but Chan is in his corner, now and always. That’s what Subin needs, and maybe he won’t be able to sustain it, but god if Chan isn’t going to try to be that for him. “Whatever that means—whatever you want from me, I’ll give it. I care about you beyond just—” Chan can’t say it now. “I care,” he repeats. 

Subin reaches for his blood-soaked hand. Chan gives it freely. “Just stay,” he says. “I don’t want to lose you, hyung.” 

“You won’t,” Chan promises, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You won’t.” 

It’s a stupid, reckless promise. Stupider still to pretend he can keep this up forever, can be Subin’s friend and companion without falling deeper in love with him. It’s cruel to himself; Chan has enough self-awareness to understand that. 

But he’s never been great at doing what’s good for him, and so the next night and the night after, he comes back just to see Subin smile. 

* * *

“Hyung, are you alright? You seem distracted these days.”

The sound of Subin’s voice pulls Chan from his thoughts. “Huh?” Everything is happening in slow motion; maybe it’s due to the exhaustion settling into his bones. He’s spent the past week preoccupied with the Situation—CODE FUCK, as he’s taken to calling it around Seungsik. Preparations for the arrival of Seungwoo’s demon hunter cousins from around the country are well underway, and he and Subin have spent the last couple of nights sweeping his neighborhood block-by-block for any telltale signs of high ranking demons. 

Sejun is unhelpfully helpful and provides them with an instrument supposedly able to measure the amount of demonic power in a given area. It has a small radius of influence, so it’s slow work. Chan’s been doing the best he can to keep it away from his building, but it’s only a matter of time before Subin reaches it and discovers the truth about Seungsik.

“I’m fine,” he says belatedly, stifling a yawn. “Just a little sleep-deprived.” 

“You should stay home tonight.” Subin still sounds concerned, his eyes running over Chan’s dark circles and unkempt hair. 

“No!” Chan says quickly, and Subin looks taken aback. “I mean, we have so much work to do, right? I should contribute what I can before your family arrives since I’m not going to be much help with the actual like, demon slaying part of it.” 

Subin still looks skeptical, but Seungwoo chooses that moment to walk in. Dropping a hand on his shoulder, the brothers exchange a loaded look, and Subin backs down. “Don’t be intimidated by my cousins,” Seungwoo says, turning to Chan with a grin. “Though if anyone asks you to spar, just say no. Say no right away.” 

“Why am I saying no?”

“Most of them will—they won’t kill you, I think, but they definitely like to maim.” 

“ _Lovely_.” 

Laughing, Seungwoo pats him on the back before moving on. Subin shifts closer, his unhappy frown burning a hole in Chan’s resolve. “Seriously, hyung. Go home and rest. I’ll be fine to hunt on my own tonight—”

“You’re not getting rid of me,” Chan says, heated, and spots of color appear on Subin’s cheeks. 

“Yeah,” he says softly, searching Chan’s face for… something. He finds it and exhales, wistful and sad and _wanting_. “I know that.” 

Still, all his protests aren’t enough to keep him at the bar. Subin cajoles Hanse into kicking Chan out for the afternoon after promising to call him before he sets out for the night. He doesn’t fight it too much; it would be nice to squeeze in a nap before he has to run interference again, but thoughts of sleep fly out the window when he returns home and sees Seungsik sitting in the living room and watching television. Somewhat amusingly, the show is _Lucifer_. 

“Chan, you look terrible.” He hits pause and rises from his seat, reaching out to steady Chan as he trips on the threshold.

“I’ve been told,” he says dryly. “Did you go out today?”

“No. I stayed in just like you told me to. I’m going to need to find a new job when all this is over.” Chan doesn’t join in with the laughter. ‘When this is all over’. He can’t say when that’ll be—if ever. 

He pulls away and drags a hand down his face. “The hunters are going to start trickling in day after tomorrow,” he says, ambling over to the fridge and cracking open a can of Seongwu’s beer. Chan takes a sip; it’s delightfully cool and tastes cheap, which feels just about perfect for him right now. Seungsik returns to the couch, watching him warily while he waits for him to continue. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Chan confesses, taking another sip. “I think you should leave town. Head into the countryside or something, keep your head down for a few months and then come back.”

Seungsik doesn’t react. 

“I can’t protect you, Seungsik. I don’t know how. I can't think of any way out of this that won’t blow up in my face, and believe me, I’ve been trying—“

“I should give myself up,” Seungsik says calmly, clearly. Chan drops his can of beer; it spills out onto the floor, wild and messy as his heart pounds in his ears.

“What the _fuck_?”

Seungsik is still remarkably composed. “I’ve been living a borrowed life since the day I left Hell,” he says evenly. “By all rights, I shouldn’t be sitting here talking to you. It won’t matter if I disappear, then.”

“It’ll matter to me! To Sooil, to Seongwu, to Jaeyoung from the movie theatre and the grandmother you escort to the supermarket every Thursday—“ 

“I don’t want to put you in a difficult position, Chan. I _hate_ seeing you like this.” He stands in one smooth motion and begins pacing, his mouth drawn. “But it’s not just for your sake. I don’t want to be a risk. I’m drawing demons here, aren’t I? How long before one of them attacks Sooil or Seongwu or that very grandmother? What will I do then? It’s better if the hunters eliminate me.” 

Chan doesn’t want him to make sense. “I won’t let you,” he says desperately, his hands clenched into fists. 

“You can’t stop me.” 

“ _Seungsik_.”

He comes to a halt. The light bathes him in a soft gold. “Did you know,” Seungsik begins, his gaze heavy. “I was a very powerful demon. I still am, even weakened. It would take no effort to subdue you.” Seeing Chan’s expression, he adds, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I’m not acting on a whim. I do think this is best for all of us. After all,” he smiles bitterly. “I’m already old as balls. What right do I have to selfishly demand to exist?”

Chan doesn’t understand how Seungsik can accept the possibility of his own demise so readily. Especially since— “If you die you’ll just respawn somewhere else,” he points out. “You can’t be sealed, Seungsik.”

Seungsik halts. “Then you’ll have to kill me, and keep killing me.” His eyes are flinty. “However many times it takes.” 

“I _won’t_.”

“I’m not asking for permission.” Chan has no time to react before Seungsik is crossing the room, the smell of sulfur and brimstone following in his wake. He should be afraid of the way Seungsik’s eyes glow white-hot, but Chan isn’t scared—just worried. 

Seungsik walks right past him and out the door. Comprehension dawns a moment later and Chan follows after him, but Seungsik shuts the door in his face. Chan hears him hiss out an incantation moments later, and something clicks into place. “Seungsik, what the fuck.” He pounds on the door, trying to wrench it open, but it remains locked. “Seungsik!”

“For what it’s worth.” Seungsik’s voice is muffled through the wood. “Thank you for everything. I’m glad I had a friend like you.” 

Biting back a growl of frustration, Chan throws himself against the door. It doesn’t budge, and Seungsik’s footsteps fade down the hallway. He throws himself against the door once more, twice more, thrice more—

But it remains stuck. Outside, he hears a bang, a scream, and thinks, _no_. 

* * *

By the time Chan manages to break down the door, everything is on fire.

Seungsik stands in the middle of the street, his eyes closed, glowing from the inside out. He looks like he’s meditating, unbothered by balls of flame falling from the sky like an unholy imitation of shooting stars. Chan barely dodges one as he stumbles towards Seungsik, his pleading drowned out by the howls of approaching lesser demons. They gravitate towards Seungsik like moths to a flame, reverence and deference clear in their body language. 

Chan’s seen demons before, but never like this. 

He’s still some distance away from Seungsik when he sees Subin. Determination alights his eyes even from a distance as he grips his knife. He must’ve seen the sky and followed it here. Or—Chan’s eyes drop to the rune on his forearm. Still dormant. He knows Seungsik isn’t interested in hurting anyone, just in being taken in. But Subin doesn’t— _can’t_ —know the same, and he looks ready and willing to charge in and carve Seungsik’s heart out with his knife himself. 

Except Chan won’t let him. The fear crawling through his veins isn’t for Subin, it’s for Seungsik. 

Subin sees him a split second later, his eyes widening. “Chan hyung!” he calls out, his voice carried on the wind. “Don’t come here. It’s not safe! Go get Seungwoo-hyung!”

But Chan grits his teeth and forces himself forward, forward, forward until he’s standing in front of Seungsik with his back towards the demon. He spreads his arms out wide and grimaces. “Don’t hurt him.” 

Subin is close enough now that he doesn’t have to raise his voice. Both blades of blessed silver are clutched in his hands, and his eyes are steely, boring into Seungsik with venom Chan didn’t know he possessed. “Hyung, _please_ ,” he says. “Step aside—we can catch him off guard.” 

“No.” Behind him, Seungsik’s eyes open slowly. “Don’t hurt him. He’s not a threat. He’s just doing all this to piss you off.”

“I’m pissed off.” Subin frowns and looks from Seungsik to Chan. “Are you being—hyung, are you being mind-controlled by—”

“No!” Chan wants to laugh at the absurdity of it. If Seungsik could mind control him, he would’ve done so to keep him in the apartment and away from all this shit. “Subin, I just—he’s my friend. He’s not dangerous. He’s my _friend_.”

Confusion fills Subin’s eyes. “Hyung, you don’t mean that. He’s a demon.” 

“He’s my friend,” Chan repeats. He swallows, looking into Subin’s face. Anger, shock, betrayal, and worry all flit over his expression, but more than anything, he looks like he wants to pull Chan aside and ask, _why_. “He’s my best friend. And a demon. And if you want to stick that pretty knife in him, you’ll just… have to stab me first.” 

Subin recoils. “You’re not making sense.” 

“Chan.” He feels Seungsik’s hand on his shoulder, sees Subin drop down into a fighting stance with a sharp inhale. “It’s alright. Step aside,” he whispers. “You don’t have to do this.” 

It’s raining hellfire, Chan is tired and stiff and knows for a fact that he can’t do anything—he doesn’t even have his _knives_ on him—and the way Subin is looking at him makes him want to tremble, to give into the weakness in his knees and sink to the ground. But he’s accepted the fact that he does not possess the ability to stand back and watch things happen. 

For better or for worse, Chan meddles. 

“Hyung,” Subin says softly. “I don’t want to do this. Don’t make me.” 

“I’m not moving.”

They’re caught in a standoff, neither party willing to budge. Demons snap around them; Seungsik keeps them at bay, but doesn’t make a move otherwise. Chan can feel his eyes bore into his back, waiting and imploring Chan to let things unfold as they do. 

Subin cracks first; he lowers his blades—only to raise them again when a familiar voice calls his name. Chan’s heart leaps into his throat as Seungwoo comes into view, dodging a ball of fire and dispatching a giant lesser demon with a quick slash. His eyes are wide, frantic as he searches the chaos for Subin, relaxing slightly when he spies him unharmed. 

“Subin. Have you—” It’s then that he notices Chan standing there with his arms outstretched, and behind him, Seungsik. He freezes, mouth opening and closing, and Chan wracks his brain to try and reason with him. But what spills out of his mouth is, “Seungsik?” 

_Seungsik?_

Chan whips around to see a look of distress pass over Seungsik’s face, his expression contorting into one of barely concealed hurt and resignation. “So it _was_ you,” he says slowly, stepping past Chan towards Seungwoo. He shrugs off Chan’s attempts to pull him back. “I wondered. Hoped it wouldn’t be, but who else?” Chuckling, he passes a hand over his face, and the hellfire goes out all at once. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” 

“Seungsik.” Seungwoo’s voice breaks on his name, his blades slipping from his hands. “Where have you been? What have you—? Since when were you—?” 

Oh, fuck. Chan gets it. Chan _gets_ it now. Subin is still looking confused, ready to launch himself between Seungwoo and Seungsik at a moment’s notice, but Chan knows what’s going on. Falling in love with the wrong person—yeah, he can see how a demon falling for a demon hunter would be considered awkward. 

“I couldn’t face you after what happened,” Seungsik says. His breath hitches in his chest; he looks away as Seungwoo takes a step forward. “I didn’t think I had a right to.” 

Realization sinks in for Subin. “Hyung, is this the demon that messed you up?” His knuckles are white from the strength of his grip. “Did he—?”

“It wasn’t him.” Seungwoo’s eyes are trained on Seungsik’s face, his eyes intense. “He _saved_ me, actually, from this big nasty demon prince. It was how I—how I realized he was a demon. And then he disappeared, and I’ve been looking for him since.” He nods at Seungsik. “You’re slippery, Sik.” 

“I didn’t want you to have to—do your duty.” Seungsik shrugs. “I wasn’t going to put you in a position to have to choose between me or your responsibility.” 

“So what is this?” Seungwoo asks after a pause. 

“This is Seungsik being an idiot and trying to provoke you into smiting him or whatever.” Chan steps protectively in front of Seungsik again, eyeing Seungwoo cautiously. “He got kicked out of hell for saving your life, Seungwoo. He doesn’t even have all his powers. He’s been living like a normal human being and he’s not dangerous.” He pushes back his sleeve and lifts his arm. “My rune hasn’t gone off once near him.” 

“Mine never did either,” Seungwoo says slowly.

“You can’t sic all your cousins on him.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.” 

“It _should_ , hyung,” Subin bursts in, furious. His eyes shake as they move from person to person, still holding onto his knives like they’re a life preserver. “He’s a demon. We’re supposed to seal all of them away.” 

“Listen to your brother, Seungwoo,” Seungsik says, his smile sad. “Haven’t you always said he’s the smart one in your family?” 

“Seungsik can’t be sealed away,” Chan blurts out. “If you kill him once, you’ll just have to kill him again, and keep killing him, like some fucking demonic whack-a-mole game that never ends.”  
  
Seungwoo retrieves his blades, and Chan watches with bated breath as he tucks them back into his holsters and looks at Seungsik with a challenge in his eyes. Seungsik, for his part, looks chastened. “I won’t hurt Seungsik,” he says. “It’d be a shitty way to repay the guy who saved me life.” 

“Really shitty,” Chan agrees.

Seungsik looks pained. “Your responsibility—“

“Is to protect people from demons.” Seungwoo puts his hand on his hips. “Do I need to protect anyone from you, Sik? Aside from myself, that is.” 

Puzzlement twists his features. “Why would I hurt you—”

“I don’t know, Sik.” He quirks an eyebrow. “You’re not planning to break my heart again, are you?” 

Seungsik blinks, bewildered. Chan groans at the ridiculously cheesy line, but Seungsik is turning red quickly, from his ears to his neck. “I wasn’t planning on it,” he says cautiously. 

“Good. Because I’m still crazy about you.” 

Mouth stretching into a soft, tentative smile, Seungsik says, “I’m pretty sure that’s sacrilege.” 

“Right now,” Seungwoo says, stepping forward. Chan gives way to him, and Seungwoo reaches for the arms hanging at Seungsik’s sides. “I don’t really give a damn.” 

There’s a moment of complete silence—and Seungsik laughs, bright and clear. The demons converging around them melt into shadow at the sound, and Chan heaves a sigh of relief. Behind Seungwoo, Subin still looks frustrated and unsure, but his expression softens when he looks at the way Seungwoo grins at Seungsik as they press their foreheads together; he’s the _happiest_ he’s looked for a while, and in spite of anything else, Subin loves his brother. 

Chan catches Subin’s eye as he turns away, and something awkward and heavy passes between them. 

He can’t say Subin feels the same about him, though. 

* * *

In the end, Seungwoo’s cousins never come to Seoul. “Our new recruit handled the situation,” Chan overhears him explaining on the phone, tossing a wink in Chan’s direction when he splutters that he didn’t do anything. “We have things under control. Sorry for alarming you guys.”

Having the situation under control really means that Seungsik isn’t calling fire down from the sky anymore, and is in fact working with Seungwoo and a reluctant Subin to lure low ranking demons to secluded spaces so they can dispatch them easily. He’s often at the _Magpie’s Nest_ in the evenings now. To Chan’s surprise, Seungsik and Hanse know each other from Hanse’s infrequent trips to Hell, and they hit it off spectacularly.

He’s not sure if Seungsik and Seungwoo are a thing now. Perhaps it’s easiest for them not to label whatever is between them, but Chan sees them spending time with each other often, heads bent together, hands intertwined. Perhaps they’re rediscovering what they mean to one another—and that’s alright, he thinks. They have the time to go slow, find a pace that works for them.

Pacing is something he and Subin can’t seem to master. Nearly a month later, they haven’t really talked. Chan wonders if something broke between them when he’d stood in front of Seungsik, determined to protect him. He tries to give Subin his space, but as things continue in the same way, Chan finally pulls him aside after a hunt, his mouth set. 

“Can we talk?” he asks, and Subin swallows before nodding.

They move to the VIP section, helpfully cleared out by Hanse, who gives Chan two thumbs up behind Subin’s back and mouths, you can fix this. It is not very encouraging; he didn’t know he had much to fix. He pulls the curtain closed behind them and waits until Subin is seated to open his mouth. 

“So,” Chan says, sliding into the booth across from him. “I think you’ve been avoiding me.” 

Subin starts, darts his eyes away uncomfortably. “I haven’t,” he says unconvincingly. “It’s just been busy.” 

“You literally _ran_ from me last week when Seungwoo tried to pair us together for that amusement park sweep.” 

“I had a… bathroom emergency,” Subin replies.

“Did I do something?” Chan blurts out, unable to take this atmosphere any longer. He tries to keep the desperation from his voice and almost succeeds. “I mean, aside from the obvious. Which wasn’t really about you; it was about protecting my friend.”

“It’s not—“ Subin breaks off and closes his eyes, pulling his sleeves over his hands. “It’s not you. It’s not that.”

“Then—?”

“Hyung, I was _terrified_.” It tips from him with so much force that Chan sits back, stunned. “When I saw you with that demon, I was so scared something was going to happen and I wouldn’t be able to save you—or worse, that I was going to have to hurt you to save everyone else.” Subin trips over his words, each one running into the next. “I realized I couldn’t—I couldn’t make that calculation. I couldn’t.”

“Subin, that’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed, just worried it’ll affect my judgment in the future. I’m worried that—“ He falls silent, fidgets. “If something happens to you, it’ll crush me.” His smile turns self-deprecating. “I’m used to caring about myself and Seungwoo hyung, but caring about someone else—it’s never worked out for me.”

Chan wets his lips as Subin lifts a shoulder, then drops it. “I didn’t know how to deal with it. I’m having enough trouble redefining my definition of good and evil as it is.” He pauses, then adds, “I didn’t try to consciously avoid you.”

Well, that’s reassuring. He thinks. Chan’s eyebrows knit together. “You care about me that much?” he asks, barely keeping the hope from his voice. 

“I love you,” Subin says. He lowers his eyes, defeated. “It’s more than just caring.”

“I—“ He’s speechless. It’s something they’ve always navigated around after Chan’s botched confession, pretending it’ll go away if they don’t acknowledge it. Only, Chan thought it was his feelings they were navigating around. He didn’t think Subin reciprocated. 

But he should have, maybe. Neither of them are all that subtle.

“Subin, you know I—“ Chan reaches out, and Subin mirrors his movements until they’re gripping each other’s hands like they don’t plan to let go. “You know I’m head-over-heels, _disgustingly_ in love with you. Like, it’s an embarrassment. _Everyone_ knows. I love you.” 

“Hyung,” Subin says, almost a whine. “Please.”

“Sorry but I’m just—“ His cheeks hurt from the force of his grin. “What made you… change your mind…? You said you didn’t want to—“

“Well, Seungwoo hyung’s budding romance has sort of changed my perception of things,” Subin says dryly. “If he can fall in love with our sworn enemy, why can’t I—“ His gaze is expectant. “Why can’t I be a little selfish for once in my life?”

“You can. You _definitely_ can.” 

“Hmm. Well, I might need some convincing.” Subin’s smile turns teasing, and the sparkle in his eyes fills the whole area. Chan wants to kiss him until it expands, erupts, takes over his entire body until he’s radiating starlight. 

So he leans forward and does what he’s wanted to do since the day he met Subin: he kisses him deep and slow, his fingers winding into the front of his shirt. Subin kisses back with equal enthusiasm, with the gusto of a dying man discovering water, and Chan thinks that—god, god, _god_. He doesn’t want this to end. 

He’s glad he jumped right into Subin’s arms all those months ago. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

_FOR A GOOD TIME (FIGHTING DEMONS AND KICKING ASS. ALSO FREE DRINKS) CALL XXXX-XXXX. *****_

_***** SLIGHT CHANCE OF DEATH SHOULD YOU SIGN UP. GREATER CHANCE OF LIFELONG FRIENDSHIP. ******_

_****** PLEASE DO NOT CALL IF INTERESTED IN SEX. ~~WE’RE ALL TAKEN.~~ _ _WHAT AM I, MOLDY FUCKIN’ CHEESE? — HANSE_

_I DIDN’T THINK YOU WERE INTERESTED, HYUNG — SUBIN_

_I’M NOT, BUT IT’S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING — HANSE_

_~~CHAN ❤️ SUBIN~~ _

_SEUNGWOO ❤️❤️❤️ SEUNGSIK_

~~_HANSE 🖤 HIS HAND_~~ _FUCK YOU_

_IF THIS DISPLAY DISGUSTS YOU AND YOU JUST WANNA HAVE SEX, CALL SEJUN AT XXXX-XXXX ❤_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to **k** and **r** who spent way too long listening to me complain about this, lmao. also a big, big thank you to **i** for being so patient and supportive. i probably couldn't have reached the end without you! 
> 
> thank you also to everyone who commented and gave this fic a chance when it was still unfinished!


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